


Nightmare

by SageAesthetic_19



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game), Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 15:28:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20410054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SageAesthetic_19/pseuds/SageAesthetic_19
Summary: Michael has a nightmare and needs help getting back to sleepAuShipname: Mydette





	Nightmare

The first thing Michael noticed when his vision cleared was white walls and speckled tiles. The walls caused him to squint due to the piercing fluorescent lights that bounced off of them.  
As he stood, the second thing Michael noticed was the soft loose clothing around his frame. Old clothes he hadn't worn in a long while including navy blue cotton pants, a white shirt and a long green cotton sweater. He pulled the sweater closer to him, once the cold familiarity of the halls set in, making him shiver. It didn't take Michael long to recognize exactly where he was.

Smiths Grove Mental Hospital.

A place Michael spent quite an extent of his adolescence in, not that he would say it was a bad thing. Contrary to popular belief, Michael didn't really mind the time he spent at Smiths Grove. Sure, the reason he went was due to the unsavory thoughts Michael experienced early on in his life, but the institution truly was there to help. The staff was attentive to patient, Michael had a few faint memories of a schedule that felt more like a boarding school than caring for psychological needs. The young man could also recall a few friends he made, possibly people he could still connect with if he put the effort into finding them again. 

All in all his time at Smith's Grove was no more than a nostalgia landscape, a reminder of simple structures.  
Well, there was still one thing that tainted those simple times.  
Dr. Samuel Loomis.  
He was the one taunting Michael since he set foot in the hospital.  
He was the one giving him unspeakable treatment to take away the "evil"  
He was the one who warped Michael's head into believing there was no way out for him.

And he was the one calling out Michael's name through the halls.

"Michael? . . . You came home." The old doctor's voice echoed through the halls as the lights began flickering. On instinct Michael tensed and looked around for any semblance of the man, but his voice seemed to echo in every direction. 

"Do you think a few years gone by will make it all go away?!" He sounded angrier and Michael felt that familiar sense of fear build up when the voices continued all around him.

"You should've never seen sunlight again." The voice grew louder, angrier, and closer. "The rage is still there, Michael. Still there in your lungs just waiting to scratch it's way out. I only tried to stop it. Stop the rage, Michael." 

It all got too loud, Loomis' voice and Michaels heartbeat in his ears before he dropped to the ground and desperately trying to cover his ears from the remarks like a scared child while a final "Stop the rage" screamed through the halls. All at once, it was silent, save for Michael's slowing heartbeat and panicked breathing. He looked up to see the lights stopped flickering and uncovered his ears. For a second, it felt like the young man could breathe again, before that same goddamn voice spoke from behind him, "Hello Michael".

No echo.  
No illusion to direction.  
Just from straight behind him. 

Naturally this caused Michael to go into a full panic mode as he turned with a dying shriek in his throat. Petrified, he couldn't think to just get up and run, trying to crawl away as he looked up at his former doctor.  
Loomis continued to speak whilst taking slow steps closer to Michael while the lights flickered and periodically turned off once more. "Don't act scared. It won't fool me, you feel nothing but rage and hate. I should now. I studied that brain of yours for so long. Too long." He stepped closer. Any sense of defense fled Michaels mind as he felt tears come up and he stared at the floor. 

Loomis only taunted him further. "You'll hurt them all, Michael. It's all you can do. I just wanted to fix you." He lowered his head. "But there's no point in fixing something so . . . So broken in the first place."

Michael sniffled a bit and choked out a small response through his raspy unused voice. "Don't hurt me . . . Please, dont hurt me."  
He looked up as the doctor seemed to have stepped away from him, his figure becoming obscure in darkness when the lights flickered on and off. "I wouldn't hurt you, Michael-" He paused. "-but he will. It's the only way he can get out." Loomis grinned and his figure disappeared into the darkness of the hall lights that shut off. 

With him finally gone, Michael stood up, still clutching his sweater. Slowly he stepped away from the inky darkness, just incase the "he" Loomis spoke about was about to attack him. He let his guard down for a minute, before a familiar mechanics suit stepped out from the hall, donning a white mask and stalking towards Michael, setting him off to run.  
He was down the hallway in a matter of seconds from the pure adrenaline running through his system. Soon, Michale rounded a corner rather messily, trying desperately to catch his breath from the sudden scare. Once he regained enough breath, the young man peered carefully around the corner. Much to his horror the masked man was walking quietly towards his location, and Michael tried to flee again, although this time his arm ended up in a vice grip throwing him back against the wall.  
Suddenly Michael felt two hands wrapped around his neck in an attempt to choke him out. Michael could only claw at the hands around his neck and bang at the shoulder of the man in the mask who tilted his head to the side curiously as his victim lost breath.  
Despite the deprivation of oxygen, an idea formed in Michael's head as he reached his hands out again to tear the mask off, prompting the man to let go in surprise and drop Michael in order to shield his face.  
Even with his blurring vision and lightheadedness Michael managed to start running again from his tormentor. 

The man adjusted and fixed his mask back over his face before starting down the hall Michael thought he could escape through. That was all that could run through his mind.  
Run, run, run, 

He didn't know where to run but at least he was getting away from the man. He almost allowed himself to feel a bit of joy.  
Almost, but the slam of Michael's body against the door brought him back to his reality. His eyes widened in fear again as he banged himself against it, knocking at the glass repeatedly, even trying to scream out for help, to no avail, the door was locked. No one was around, and now Michael could feel his death creeping up on him, quite literally when a fist grabbed the back of his sweater, pulled him back and slammed his head straight through the window, making a choked sound as he did.  
The man pulled Michaels head back which had started bleeding and he collapsed on the ground while the masked man took a shard of glass and towered over him.  
There was no second chance of survival when he felt the glass pierce through the skin of his neck and cloud his own vision with blood and darkness. 

. . . 

The darkness gave way to a slow moving ceiling fan as Michael woke up in a frantic state, drenched in sweat and breathing in deeply to settle his nerves. He took in his surroundings carefully to see that he was in his room alone. No hospitals, no doctors, no masked murderers.  
Somehow that didn't make Michael feel any better as he grabbed a pillow and screamed as best as he could into it. Luckily, his immediate family was out of town visiting his sister, allowing him to just try and scream his lungs out, in anyway that would dissolve the emotions of fear and horror from his system. He set the pillow down in a shaky motion, just listening to his own shaky breathed and sniffles, watching as tears fell and stained his pillowcase. 

"Fuck . . ." There was no way he was sleeping now, he knew that as he reached out for the phone on his nightstand. Shaky fingers scrolled for a familiar contact name as he clicked to call.

It only took a few rings before that sweet familiar voice reached his ears and he calmed down almost instantly.  
"Hi Michael!" Claudette sounded cheery but her next words were crafted around the immediate sniffing and shaky breathes she heard.  
"Michael? Are you okay?"  
He gulped before responding in a hoarse voice. "Please come over."

"I'm on my way, okay?. I'll see you soon, Michael." She responded and he ended the call after a quick "thank you"

It took a little less than half a pain-staken hour before he got her text.  
/I'm at the door/  
He breathed out a last time and stood up, trembling a bit to get downstairs and open the door. Claudette stared up at him, a sad smile on her face and she held out her arms, "Nightmare again?" 

Right then it felt like a dam broke behind his eyelids and he scooped her up in a tight hug, burying his face into her shoulder. No doubt getting it stained with the tears that wouldn't stop coming. She was surprised only a second before she wrapped one arm around him and let the other stroke her fingers soothingly against his long tangled hair. "It's okay. I promise it's okay now." 

Time felt strange to Michael now in the transition of adrenaline rushed to just dazed and tired. At one minute he was clutching his girlfriend at his doorstep, and now he was back in bed. Albeit, not alone anymore. He found comfort, with Claudette laying next to him, while she still raked her fingers through his locks. She tilted her head a bit down and asked quietly. "Do you . . . Do you want to tell me what your nightmare was about?"

He winched and shook his head, opting to bury himself further into the blanket. At that Claudette sighed and kissed his forehead gently. "Okay, okay. Try to get some sleep, alright? I'll be right here if you have another nightmare." She whispered. Michael looked up at that, and cupped her cheek gently pulling her close for another kiss. She sighed against his lips before they disconnected and Michael relaxed into bed, closing his eyes. "I love you, Claudette." He whispered.

An "I love you too, Michael" was the last thing he heard before drifting off into a dreamless and much more peaceful sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I love Mydette  
Dont @ me


End file.
